


See Me, Feel Me, Touch Me, Heal Me

by Isaoverfloing_withfeelings



Category: Florence + the Machine
Genre: F/F, Silly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 07:30:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5657833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isaoverfloing_withfeelings/pseuds/Isaoverfloing_withfeelings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by See Me, Feel Me by The Who. OK. I know that this song isn’t about a love affair between 2 young women, but the lyrics to the chorus came to mind while I was reading The Drinks In The Dark At The End Of My Road by FlorenceWelch at AO3, and Remain Nameless by rabbitheartedflorence and nolightnolightmachine on Tumblr, during a long wait in a bus station on Christmas Day.</p><p>*Shrugging* What can I say? Pure silliness. But isn’t that one of the hallmarks of this particular pair? Maybe Isa’s been working too hard. And who needs a “good” reason to jump the one they love anyway?</p><p>Obviously, not REALLY Flo and Isa. A story from my imagination; purely fictional.</p>
            </blockquote>





	See Me, Feel Me, Touch Me, Heal Me

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Drinks In The Dark At The End Of My Road](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5486954) by [ErinHoltzmann](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErinHoltzmann/pseuds/ErinHoltzmann). 



**See Me, Feel Me, Touch Me, Heal Me**

 

Isa was currently all over 60s and 70s music—“The British Invasion!” she yelled at Florence across the Schloft. “I FUCKING LOVE IT!” Never mind that she now had a home in Los Fucking Angeles in Californication of the U S of Fucking America. She screamed.

 

Florence glanced in concern over at her tiny blonde friend. This was more in _her_ area of expertise—the screaming fits and hysterical laughter, that is. And they weren’t even drinking any alcohol at the moment; it being pretty much too early in the day for them except in their more deranged moments. “You okay, Iz?”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Isabella said, choking on her laughter. “I’m just looking at lyrics from some of our musical compatriots from that whole ‘War on Drugs’ shit, the peace movement, censorship in general from that time. Fuck, they had to be so fucking creative to get any airplay in the US ‘cause of the Fucking Communication Commission. Kids were even more on about figuring out what lyrics meant than they are with yours, babe. It’s hysterical. FUCKING HYSTERICAL!” she shouted loudly, as if Flo were too far away to hear her in her tiny Isa-sized apartment.

 

“Okay, I get it, babe,” the redhead said, covering her ears and turning away from the blonde. “A bit more quietly, please?”

 

“Before I offend your delicate ears any further,” Isa began to whisper, “here’s one for you. Remember hearing about how Sir Paul was supposed to dead one year?—‘cause a walrus is supposed to be an Eskimo symbol of the dead—or some such….”

 

“So?”

 

“And they couldn’t say _shit,_ literally, so Steve Miller changed that _particular_ word to _kicks_ for the radio in his song _Jet Airliner._ ” Isa started to scream again, falling off her chair and rolling on the floor.

 

“What _are_ you on about?” Flo’s concern was turning into some worry now. “And Steve Miller’s a Yank anyway,” she said frowning.

 

“And our dear old Mick wrote _Sympathy for the Devil—.”_ Isa slowly rose to all fours and began creeping on the floor toward Flo.

 

“See me,” she said, softly.

 

“Wha--?” the tall girl pushed herself further back into the sofa.

 

The short woman launched herself at her friend. “FEEL ME!” she grabbed Flo’s hands and placed them on her breasts.

 

Flo got it now. “Touch me, heal me,” she sang back, pulling Isa toward her.

 

“Oh, not yet, dear,” she winked at her partner. “Listening to you—.”

 

“I get the music.”

 

“Gazing at you--.”

 

“I get the heat,” Flo’s voice got husky with desire, but Isa still kept her at arm’s length. Isa sang the next line, then sank to her knees in front the sofa. “I get excitement at your feet,” she sang into Flo’s crotch after she pushed her legs apart.

 

And the rest, as they say, is history.

 

As the saying goes, “And that is all,” she wrote.

**Author's Note:**

> See me, Feel Me by The Who  
> See me, feel me, touch me, heal me  
> See me, feel me, touch me, heal me  
> See me, feel me, touch me, heal me  
> See me, feel me, touch me, heal me
> 
> Listening to you I get the music  
> Gazing at you I get the heat  
> Following you I climb the mountain  
> I get excitement at your feet
> 
> Right behind you I see the millions  
> On you I see the glory  
> From you I get opinions  
> From you I get the story


End file.
